Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, other than the copy I bought to play the game.
A Twist of Fate
EXECUTION
The prisoner stirred in her sleep. She heard the hooves of horses and the creaking of carriages slowly making their way across cobblestone. Slowly she opened her eyes and found herself sitting in one of the carriages, her hands tied together and her back aching from sitting still for so long.
"Hey, you." A blond Nord sitting right across from her said. "You're finally awake." The man looked weary from battle, with dark rings around his eyes showing he had had little sleep, and dirt smudged on his face. He was wearing a blue cloak over chainmail armor, but he was just as unarmed and tied up as she was.
"You were trying to cross the border, right?" He asked. "Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."
The prisoner nodded slowly, not mentioning the fact that she was a thief as well. Looking to her right she found a skittish Nord sitting next to the soldier, and a man in noble clothing next to her. The nobleman wasn't just tied up, he also had a piece of cloth in his mouth, rendering him unable to speak.
"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy." The thief said angrily to the soldier. The prisoner almost groaned. The civil war… how could she have forgotten it? She knew she shouldn't have travelled to Skyrim… she could've gone to High Rock, or Valenwood. So much for being close to home… She thought bitterly. Now she'd probably just rot away in a cell somewhere, the very same fate she'd been trying to avoid.
She became suddenly aware that someone had spoken to her directly, and forced herself out of her musings about failures and thievery.
"… It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." The thief finished.
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." The soldier said before she could answer.
"Shut up back there!" The Imperial soldier driving the carriage called from the boot.
"And what's wrong with him, huh?" The thief said, ignoring the soldier's command, looking pointedly at the gagged noble.
"Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." The Stormcloak soldier said, an edge in his voice – clearly telling of his loyalty in the war.
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion." The thief said slowly, looking at the noble. The man just stared back at him. "But if they've captured you… Oh gods, where are they taking us?" Panic snuck into the thief's formerly angry tone.
The Stormcloak soldier looked away. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." The prisoner flinched. No rotting away in a cell… She groaned. At least a cell she could hope to escape…
"No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening." The thief went on, and the prisoner wanted to punch him.
"Hey… what village are you from, horse thief?" The soldier asked.
"Why do you care?"
"A Nords last thoughts should be of home." The prisoner flinched again. She may not be a Nord, but she had given no thoughts to her home down in Cyrodiil. Not even a thought of the small farm she grew up on in Morrowind.
"Rorikstead. I'm… I'm from Rorikstead." The thief said as they finally reached the walls of some town. Thinking back, the prisoner realized that she probably should have looked at a map of Skyrim before heading there.
"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" The prisoner snapped out of her thoughts at those words.
"Good. Let's get this over with." The general replied, and the thief began to panic again, begging the gods for help.
"Look at him, General Tullius the Military Governor." The Stormcloak soldier said acidly. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." Despite being an elf, the prisoner couldn't help but agree. She held no love for the Thalmor, and they held none for her.
"This is Helgen." The Stormcloak soldier continued, to no one in particular. He kept talking, but the prisoner was far too busy looking for a way out to listen. There were soldiers everywhere and nowhere to run. Maybe she could talk her way out of it…
The carriages came to a halt.
"Why are we stopping?" The thief from Rorikstead asked.
"Why do you think? End of the line." The Stormcloak soldier replied darkly. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."
No. Let them wait a while longer. The prisoner thought, but she stood up with the others as well, the horse thief rambling on about innocence and not being rebels. No one paid any heed to him.
"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time." A captain commanded.
The Stormcloak soldier sighed behind her. "Empire loves their damn lists…"
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm." An Imperial soldier with a list in his hands called, checking the name.
"It's been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." The Stormcloak soldier said, and the prisoner wanted to punch him. She didn't want to die, and this Nord's constant talk of death was beginning to unnerve her.
"Ralof of Riverwood." The man with the list called, and the Stormcloak soldier walked past the prisoner and took his place in the line of the other prisoners. "Lokir of Rorikstead."
"No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" The thief panicked and began to run.
"Halt!" The Imperial Captain commanded, but the thief kept running, shouting about how they weren't going to kill him. "Archers!"
The prisoner flinched as she saw the archers raise their bows, take aim, and the arrows pierced the thief, who went down immediately.
"Anyone else feel like running?" The Imperial Captain said, and the prisoner silently thought that yes, she did feel like running. She just didn't feel like being shot down like a deer.
"Wait. You there." Said the man with the list. "Step forward." The prisoner did as he asked. "Who are you?"
"Llithera." She lied. She didn't want them to know her real name, in the case that she was on a list over criminals somewhere in Cyrodiil. It seemed likely. And if she got out of this mess she could always go back to using her real name, as long as she didn't mention her surname. It couldn't bode well to be recognized as the daughter of an assassin fanatically loyal to Sithis. So fanatic he'd named his daughter after the Dread Lord, in fact. More than once had Sitheri been told it was an unusual name. More than once had she been accused of being in the Brotherhood itself.
"Another refugee? Gods really have abandoned your people, Dark Elf." Sitheri ignored that, it wasn't exactly news to her. "Captain, what should we do with her? She's not on the list." Sitheri looked up hopefully.
"Forget the list. She goes to the block." Her hope vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"By your orders, Captain." The soldier with the list said, then turned to her. "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Morrowind." Not that there's anyone to return them to… "Follow the Captain, prisoner." Sitheri did as commanded, her heart sinking as she was beginning to realize that she'd escaped death just to wander straight back towards it.
"Ulfric Stormcloak." The man who must be General Tullius said. "Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." Sitheri rolled her eyes and the Jarl just made a grunting noise. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."
Sitheri snorted, but it was drowned out by some sort of thunderous roar from the mountains. Everyone looked around nervously.
"What was that?" Someone asked.
"It's nothing." The general said. "Carry on."
"Yes, General Tullius." The captain said and then turned towards a priestess standing by the headsman. "Give them their last rites."
The priestess began preaching about the Eight Divines and blessings, but was promptly interrupted by a Stormcloak soldier who impatiently stepped forward, muttering about getting the execution done with.
"As you wish." The priestess said disapprovingly as the man knelt by the block.
"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" The Stormcloak soldier said, and the executioner began to swing the axe. The man's head fell into the basket placed before the block with a thud.
The Stormcloak soldier's body slumped to the side, and someone screamed "You Imperial Bastards!" earning a shout of "Death to the Stormcloaks!" from one of the onlookers.
"As fearless in death as he was in life." Ralof remarked.
"Next, the dark elf!" The same thunderous roar was heard, louder this time.
"There it is again, did you hear that?"
"I said, next prisoner!"
"To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy." Sitheri did as told, taking heavy steps towards the block. They could at least have moved the body… she thought as she knelt by the block, putting her head on it and looking up at the executinoer and the cruel axe he carried.
Just as the headsman began to raise the axe, the thunderous roar was heard again, and this time they could see the source of it.
Rising up from the mountains, a great beast with wings like a bat and a monstrous body came flying and landed atop a small tower, right next to where Sitheri was kneeling with her head on the block.
"What in Oblivion is that?" General Tullius shouted.
The beast that could only be a dragon looked straight into Sitheri's eyes where she knelt. A roar even more fearful than the others came from the dragon, staggering everyone as if hit by some invisible force. The sky changed color, clouds swirling in it, and great balls of fire started raining down from it.
"Don't just stand there! Kill that thing!" General Tullius shouted and the dragon roared again.
Sitheri stumbled up from the headsman's block and began to run, hearing Ralof shout at her to get up. She followed him into the keep, nearly getting hit by a fireball in the process.
The door to the keep shut behind her, and she found herself in a room with the Jarl and two dead or dying Stormcloak soldiers.
"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Ralof asked frantically. Sitheri stood silently to the side, listening to the shouts and roars from outside.
"Legends don't burn down villages." The Jarl said calmly. "We need to move, now!"
"Up through the tower, let's go!" Ralof said and started running up the stairs, closely followed by Sitheri.
"We just need to move some of these-" The Stormcloak soldier was brutally cut off as the dragon brought down a part of the wall and breathed fire on him. Sitheri stumbled down a few steps, feeling the heat of the dragon's fire hit her. The dragon disappeared and she and Ralof ran up again.
"See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going!" Without hesitation Sitheri did as asked, leaping through the smoke of a fire below, and landing painfully on her feet on the upper level of the inn. Without waiting she ran forwards and jumped through a hole down to the ground level of it and ran outside, just in time to see the dragon land on the ground and spew fire towards the Imperial Soldier with the list and two others, one of whom was a child.
"Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way." The Imperial soldier said as the dragon took off again, and then turned to the other man. "Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense."
"Gods guide you, Hadvar." The man said as the soldier began to run across the courtyard, closely followed by Sitheri.
"Stay close to the wall!" Hadvar warned her, and she pressed herself tightly against the wall not a second too late, as she found herself staring at a leathery dragon wing. As the dragon roared she thought she could faintly hear words within the roar, but it was obscured by a sizzling sound from its fiery breath – and the screams of some soldier being lit on fire.
As suddenly as the dragon had appeared on the wall it left it, and Hadvar shouted at her to follow him, running past a dead archer on the stairs between two houses. Sitheri and Hadvar ran past a crowd of soldiers and archers all waiting for the next time the dragon would come into their reach. As they ran out into a courtyard they happened upon Ralof again.
"Ralof! You damned traitor. Out of my way!" Hadvar growled at the other man.
"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time." Ralof responded rather calmly for the situation.
"Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde." Hadvar said and started off towards the dragon which was flying around a broken tower just ahead.
"You! Come on, into the keep!" Ralof shouted to her as he recognized her. She heard Hadvar shout for her to follow him and hesitated for just a moment before following Ralof through a door to the relative safety inside the keep.
Yep, a Skyrim fanfic. This isn't going to be a parody (!) but rather a "serious" re-telling of my character's adventures in the world. Truthfully I see it more like a writing-practice-thingy, so don't expect regular updates or anything (I also play it on the PS3 without the patch that fixes the lag issue, but I'm planning on getting it. Eventually).
I'll obviously be cutting stuff out as well as adding things for the sake of the story (and not mention every single thing I pick up). And Sitheri most likely won't follow through with the main quest immediately, but rather run around side-questing. A lot.
But yeah, since this is practice I'd obviously enjoy getting creative criticism from whoever reads this, so feel free to review and don't hesitate to say something negative. I promise I won't get mad... O_O That's me staring into your soul, btw.